


Possibly the Prettiest

by llama_party



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Patrick, M/M, Panty Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 23:03:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7074208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/llama_party/pseuds/llama_party
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was bright pink, with red and white hearts, and clearly meant for a Valentine’s gift.  Which would be fine, if Valentine’s day hadn’t been several months ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possibly the Prettiest

**Author's Note:**

> title is from Alpha Dog
> 
> I wrote this shortly after valentines day in my study hall, and has been sitting around on my computer for a while, but whatever

Patrick stared at the gift bag, confused. Pete had handed it to him before leaving the house to pick up dinner. It was bright pink, with red and white hearts, and clearly meant for a Valentine’s gift. Which would be fine, if Valentine’s day hadn’t been several months ago. Patrick pulled out the glittery red tissue paper, and reached into the bag to find a pair of black silk panties. He felt his face get hot as he looked over the soft fabric.

He held them in his hands, wondering what Pete had meant by them. Did he want Patrick to wear them? Were they just a joke? He should just stick them back in the bag, and put it on the coffee table. And that’s what he did. He watched infomercials for a while, but his mind kept wandering back to the gaudy bag on the table. Ten minutes later, he found himself in front of his bedroom mirror, panties in hand. 

“It wouldn’t hurt to try them on, right?” he told himself. He sighed, made a face, and slipped the panties on. He looked… good? Yeah, he looked good. Really good. He turned around to look at his ass. The black sik of the panties was a stark contrast to his thick, pale thighs, and they hugged his ass in just the right way. He looked down at himself; at his own pale legs and tiny feet. He resolved to get matching thigh-highs later. He imagined sheer, silk black stockings, maybe with little bows on them. He looked back to his reflection in the mirror, and did a slow turn, cocked his hip, and paused. How would Pete react? He had obviously gotten the panties as some sort of gift, but had he meant it as a joke? Patrick knew that it was entirely likely that he wanted Patrick to wear them, but there was still a little nagging thought in the back of his head. Well, really, two thoughts. One was the little nagging feeling that Pete had meant it as a joke, and that he’d mock Patrick for liking them, and the other made him half hard just thinking about it.

He turned his attention back to the clothes he had discarded on the floor. Patrick looked back to the mirror, admiring himself one last time, before he pulled his jeans back on, over the silky black panties. As he pulled his shirt over his head, the front door clicked open.

“Trick? Where are you?” Pete yelled, unnecessarily loud.

“I’ll be right there, babe.” Patrick walked into the kitchen. Pete was standing at the counter, pulling styrofoam takeout boxes out of a plastic bag. Patrick noticed several other bags sitting on the floor. He kissed Pete’s cheek before reaching for the box of General Tso’s Chicken and walking back into the living room.

“What’s in those bags?”

Pete sat down next to him on the couch, “Stuff. For you, if you want it.”

Patrick hesitated briefly. Did he know? He pushed the thought away, and snuggled in closer to Pete, getting lost in whatever shitty sci-fi movie was on. He vaguely recalled Pete waking him up to go to bed later that night.

The next day, he got up before Pete, and maneuvered his way into the kitchen. He peeked into the bags, and lo and behold, laying neatly folded in the bag were 3 more pairs of panties, and a pair of sheer black thigh-highs. His face got hot as he pulled out a pair of soft, lacy, pastel pink panties. He dropped them back into the bag and pulled out a nearly identical pair of blue panties. He turned them over in his hands, then dropped them back and pulled out the final pair, a pair of thin, red panties, complete with a little black bow on the front.

“I’m guessing you like them?” Patrick spun around, startled. Pete stood in front of him, unblinking. 

“Pete, I, uh, shit….” Patrick stood up. He opened his mouth to explain and Pete moved in and kissed him roughly. He didn’t respond, because he still needed to process. He had known that Pete was a kinky sonofabitch, but of all things, panties? In retrospect, he should have seen it coming. Pete pulled away and Patrick chased his lips. They broke apart, breathing heavily. Pete gently grabbed Patrick’s wrists and pulled him to the bedroom.  
They fell onto the bed, and Pete kissed him, down his jaw and neck. Patrick started grinding up into Pete, who at that moment chose to pull away. He ran a finger under the waistband of Patrick’s pajamas, whispering a soft “Can I?” into his his neck. Patrick hummed quietly in response, writhing under Pete.

Patrick lifted his hips and Pete pulled his pants off, revealing the panties. Pete pulled back and admired Patrick; how the black silk was a stark contrast against the thick, pale thighs. He pulled Patrick up and kissed him again, before breaking away and stripping. When he pulled his shirt over his head, Patrick was laying back on the bed, now shirtless, his cock hard underneath the lingerie. 

Pete leaned over him, grinning deviously, and kissed him deeply. He groaned into Pete’s mouth, and started grinding up into him. Pete moved his hands to Patrick’s hips and pressed him into the mattress, breaking the kiss in the process. He moved down Patrick’s body, pressing kisses down his chest and stomach. He stopped when he reached the panties, and started gently rubbing small circles into Patrick’s thighs. He didn’t move, just laid his head on the thick, pale thighs next to his face, watching Patrick’s face; how his pupils were blown wide with arousal, his face pink and flushed, and his eyebrows furrowed with frustration.

“As much as I love it when you pamper me like this, I’d like to get off sometime this week,” Patrick huffed. Pete grinned widely.

He pulled the black silk down, and Patrick raised his hips to slide them off his legs. Pete nipped at the pale thighs around his head, then licked a stripe up Patrick’s cock. He took Patrick into his mouth, before bobbing his head and hollowing his cheeks. Patrick reached to grab his hair and he pulled off. Patrick looked at him (incredulously?).

“I love you, but you suck at giving head, babe.” Pete snorted. Patrick lightly smacked the top of his head. 

“How do you know? You didn’t let me get to the creamy--”

“Pete I swear to god.” He snorted again, and gestured for Patrick to roll over. Patrick raised his eyebrows, as if to say, “Really?”

Pete rolled his eyes, then lifted Patrick’s legs over his shoulders. He pressed his tongue to Patrick’s hole and licked. Then he paused. When Patrick started squirming he did it again. He repeated this process one or two more times, before sitting up and grinning at Patrick, whose face and upper chest was pink and covered in sweat. Patrick scowled up at him. He reached over and grabbed a bottle of lube from the bedside drawer.

“Fingers. Ass. Now.” Pete grinned wider.

“I’m not a fan of bottoming Trick, but if you insist…” He trailed off, grinning like a madman, and before he could click the bottle of lube open, Patrick had rolled them over, straddling Pete. With one hand he took the bottle of lube, and with the other he attached Pete’s hands to the headboard with a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs. Pete stuck his bottom lip out in a pout.

“Don’t give me that shit. You’re being a tease” Patrick reached around and quickly slipped one finger in, working himself open. Pete squirmed under him, and he added another finger.

“You’re goin’ a little fast, babe.” Pete wiggled again, trying to get free.

“Wanna get off sometime tonight, babe.” Patrick bit back, and he had added a third finger. He fucked himself on his fingers while Pete looked up at him, admiring the look on his boyfriend’s face. Patrick rocked back onto his fingers, soft gasps and whimpers escaping his mouth.

He abruptly stopped, wiped his fingers off on the bedsheets, and reached over to the bedside drawer, presumably for a condom. Pete took the opportunity to reach up and lick at one of Patrick’s nipples. The smaller man bit back a moan, and looked down at Pete. He leaned down and kissed him. It was a rough kiss, and it was over almost as soon as it started, with Pete biting Patrick’s lip and they pulled apart.

Patrick stroked Pete’s cock with one hand and held the condom in the other, opening it with his teeth. He rolled the condom on. He stopped and looked at Pete.

“Ribbed condoms?”

“Ribbed for her pleasure, duh.”

Patrick squinted at him, before barely shrugging and reaching for the bottle of lube. He poured some into the palm of his hand and then gave Pete’s cock a couple quick strokes, before lining it up and sinking down onto it.

“Ahh, fuck” He didn’t move for about thirty seconds. He let out a breathy sigh, and Pete wiggled his arms, reminding Patrick that he was tied up. Patrick rolled his eyes and uncuffed him. Pete grabbed Patrick’s hips and gave a shallow, almost half-hearted thrust. Patrick started bouncing on his cock, letting out shaky moans. He placed his hands on Pete’s chest and leaned over him.

“Fuck, babe, you looked so pretty wearing those panties earlier, made me wanna just bend you over right there, fuck you against the kitchen table.” Pete breathed into his ear, “Do you want that baby? Want me to bend you over and fuck you hard?”

Patrick was moaning like a porn-star, his hair disheveled and his face flushed red. His pale thighs were covered in fading bruises from the last time they had fucked, accompanied by the bruises Pete was pressing into them as he gripped Patrick’s thighs tightly. He loved marking up Patrick’s skin, loved the way the dark bruises stood out on the porcelain skin.

“Ahhhhh, fuck, Pete,” Patrick was moving more frantically now, and his thighs were shaking. Pete squeezed the base of Patrick’s cock, pulled out, and flipped them over. He grinned lazily at Patrick, who was glaring up at him. He pressed a kiss to Patrick’s forehead, then thrust back in. Patrick gave little gasps and breathy moans as Pete fucked him hard, and soon his thighs were shaking. Pete snaked his arm between them, and pumped his dick until Patrick’s breath caught in his throat. He arched his back and keened loudly as he came over Pete’s hand. He whimpered as he came down from his orgasm, and Pete soon followed, coming with a groan, and collapsing on top of Patrick.

Pete pulled out and went into the bathroom, and Patrick sighed and closed his eyes. He felt the mattress sink down next to him, and wrapped himself around Pete. Pete threaded his fingers through Patrick’s soft hair, and kissed the top of his head. Patrick craned his neck to look up at him.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself.”

“You thought it was a joke, didn't you?”

“Mmm” 

Patrick closed his eyes, exhausted.

“Next time you should wear the thigh-highs I got you.” Pete spoke softly, pulling the duvet cover over them.

Patrick vaguely remembers saying “I’ll get right on it,”


End file.
